


World Stands Still

by HoneyBeeez



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental kisses, First Kisses, M/M, Sci-Fi-like elements, Time Manipulation, angst? i think?, rating for language and smooches i guess idk how anything works anymore, things happen, time stops if certain requirements are met and someone can move around in that stopped time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 10:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBeeez/pseuds/HoneyBeeez
Summary: The curious thing about the world is that, if you let it, it’ll stand still. Kyoutani’s never been still for a second of his life until he’s forced to be. Or, at least, the world forced him to be.





	World Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> it was raining one day (which i love) and i found myself sitting on a windowsill and i took a picture and the phrase "if you let it, the world'll stand still" popped into my mind and it hasn't left me alone. so have a heaping mess

It started as a dream. He was nodding off in the middle of class, before their teacher _really_ started saying anything of importance, when his head slipped off the hand he was resting it on, the movement jerking him awake again. But the rest of the world wasn’t. The silence was suffocating throughout the classroom, there were some papers perched precariously in the teacher’s hand as they straightened them, his classmates were in different phases of getting settled for class, frozen awkwardly in their seats or balancing as they leaned over their desks. All their faces were still.

Kyoutani didn’t know what to do.

The first time, he got up from his desk, and looked around the classroom, perplexed. His hands were shaking as he walked around, looking at all these people who were stuck in time, and he was stuck out of it. He was _sure_ it was a dream, knees weak and head spinning, so he wandered back to his desk and collapsed into it.

And then time resumed, the teacher moving on, the world bursting with movement and laughter and _sound_. Kyoutani thought it was a dream.

Until the second time. And then the third. It continued into the week, the weekend giving him a reprieve of the weird phenomena, before resuming in class once more.

He called it The Stopping in his mind, this weird piece of time where he could see exactly one instance, where everything Stopped except for him. He couldn’t seem to move people, but objects like papers, pencils and water moved normally. The amount of time within The Stopping always varied, depending on how long Kyoutani wanted it to go on for, the blip in time ending when he sat back in his seat.

It’s the second Wednesday that time has stopped for him, and Kyoutani’s had enough of his own classmates. He looks around, of course, still not used to the glassiness of his classmates’ eyes or the eerie way their limbs are contorted and frozen in place. He gives the room a once-over before inching the door open and slipping outside into the hallway.

In the classroom, the silence of _true_ nothingness was startling, but in the hallway? It is terrifying and foreboding in a way that made Kyoutani’s heart rate tick, made shivers run up his spine.

“Hello?” he calls, but there isn’t a reply. He knew there wouldn’t be.

It takes him another couple of days to look into other classrooms, peer at other people that he doesn’t know the names of. He thinks it’s poetic, and poetically stupid, all at the same time, that he can see all these people in this one instance, and he doesn’t know a single one. It feels like a violation of privacy, but if this was happening to him, how many other people did this happen to? How many others walked through moments in time? Is anything, truly, private?

He doesn’t want to know the answers to those questions. Ignorance is bliss and he would rather keep it that way.

It’s not until the next week that he finds someone he knows. Well, _two_ people he knows.

Yahaba Shigeru sits in the third row of his classroom. He always has a pink mechanical pencil on his desk. He’s nearly always turned around in his seat when Kyoutani finds him, his mouth bizarrely open as his eyes lock onto a sparkly-eyed, frozen Watari Shinji, who always has a ballpoint pen perched precariously on his fingers, like he was spinning it before time refused to pass on.

Kyoutani thinks it’s weird, seeing Yahaba and Watari poised like a painting that would never be hung. The whole thing is weird, but he’s alway seen those two in movement, either running drills or running their-- really, it’s just Yahaba running his mouth, but his point still stands. It’s oddly unnerving.

But he still can’t help himself. Like clockwork, or maybe the clock _doesn’t_ work, and that’s what’s causing him to be a little off, Kyoutani notes The Stopping start and he bolts out of his seat and wanders his way to their classroom.

He hates the way he’s mesmerized. He _shouldn’t_ be mesmerized. They’re annoying. But one morning Watari has his hands tangled in Yahaba’s grayish hair, tousling the strands, and Yahaba’s trying to fend himself off, arms pushing the other away (to no avail, not until Kyoutani gets back to his seat) and he has this expression that’s part-angry and part-delighted all at the same time, a scowl mixed with a beaming grin and… Kyoutani doesn’t know what to do with it.

He stares for too long, embarrassingly long, and he’s glad time is Stopped because he doesn’t want to gauge how long he was there, stooped next to Yahaba to get a better look, to analyze every part of the scene.

For the next couple days, Kyoutani feels time Stop and he stands up before, resolutely, sitting right back down.

He realizes that he doesn’t want this anymore. Time shouldn’t stop, he shouldn’t see people as they are for one moment in time, he shouldn’t be able to see this exact tangent of life. Whatever this is, he resigns to let it end.

But it doesn’t. And the next day, he’s on his feet and out into the hallway.

This thoughts clutter dangerously in his head as he lets his feet carry him where they please. Things shouldn’t be like this, and yet they are, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He hasn’t said a word because he _knows_ it’ll only cause trouble, or people will think he’s crazy or some shit like that, so that’s out of the question. But he doesn’t _know_ what to do, and it’s starting to make him hate going to school in the first place.

And he’s found his solution. The weekends are normal because he’s not in the building, what if the _building_ is the problem? What if he’s not supposed to be at school? What if this some kind of cosmic sign that he’s supposed to be somewhere else? It makes no sense, but neither does time itself stuttering nearly every day, so it’s worth a shot.

He skips. He checks the time, compulsively, like he’s scared that it will Stop without him noticing. But it never does. The world still turns, people still move, the noises of everyday life still hang over his head like a cloud he doesn’t mind having.

He doesn’t go to school for a week until he gets in trouble. Kyoutani’s forced to go back.

He’s sitting at his desk, head propped lazily in his hand as he waits for class to start. It’s painfully early, he knows this. Their teacher hasn’t even come through the door so Kyoutani still has time before The Stopping resumes. He sighs, loudly, knowing full-well the looks he’s getting from his fellow classmates. The intrigue and fear doesn’t phase him. They’ll be frozen in the next couple minutes, anyways.

He starts when their classroom door bangs open.

“Where the _hell_ have _you_ been?!”

“Yahaba, stop it!”

Kyoutani flinches as he looks up and sees Yahaba Shigeru stalking towards him, stopping just shy from grabbing Kyoutani’s collar. His fingers are practically itching to do it. Kyoutani thinks their teacher is running late.

“Who do you think you are, just disappearing without telling anyone?” Yahaba snaps, his eyes like steel and his voice as sour as lemon juice. “You’re part of our team, even if you don’t fuckin’ act like it most of the time! You can’t just _leave_!”

“Yahaba, calm _down_ ,” Watari hisses, grabbing at Yahaba’s arm, which was been gesticulating so wildly Kyoutani thought he might lash out and hit him and claim it was an accident. Yahaba starts to turn towards Watari, lips pursed like he was thinking of a way to defend himself, and then everything Stops.

Kyoutani groans as he gets up from his seat, standing up straight before going to sit back down, but his eyes flick up to Yahaba’s face. He hesitates.

He doesn’t know why he stops, but he guesses he doesn’t really know why Yahaba’s face is so interesting to him in the first place. But there’s _something_ he doesn’t really get in the pout of his lips or in furrow of his brow or in the indignation that shines in his eyes. Before Kyoutani can really stop himself, he’s standing close, their noses nearly touching. The intensity of his expression is even moreso up-close, and Kyoutani doesn’t want to admit that he just stands there, _so close_ , feeling his own heartbeat pound in his head.

The confusion of it all swirls in his head, sending him swaying, his nose touching Yahaba’s and his lips catching the corner of Yahaba’s mouth.

And then Yahaba’s moving, trying to yank his arm away from Watari’s grasp as he tries to utter a smartass remark all in the span of a millisecond before noting Watari’s rigidity and then, _finally_ , how close Kyoutani is.

“The _fuck_?!” Yahaba hisses, pushing Kyoutani away with his free hand. Kyoutani stumbles, but catches himself before he falls into his chair. Yahaba looks like he’s about to seethe something nasty and derogatory at him, but then his vision shifts to everyone else, Stopped in the moment, and Kyoutani can nearly pinpoint when Yahaba’s heart drops into his stomach.

“I can explain,” Kyoutani says, quickly, the words slipping out before he realizes their consequences. Yahaba’s eyes fall on him again and he winces. “Well, sort of.”

Kyoutani helps extricate Yahaba’s arm from Watari’s frozen grip, wondering how that would feel like, but also noting the way Yahaba was standing and how his arm was angled for when they get back.

They walk, their footsteps echoing in the silent hallways. Yahaba hasn’t exploded, not yet, but Kyoutani can tell that he will. He’s eyeing the place like it was new, unfamiliar territory, scanning for potential villains, and every once in a while his gaze falls resolutely on Kyoutani, surely looking for answers that Kyoutani won’t give him yet, but also looking for something else that Kyoutani can’t quite nail down. It’s there in the way Yahaba looks away when he’s caught staring, though.

Kyoutani’s pushing open the door that leads to the roof before he can really think about it. He’s never been _outside_ during the The Stopping, but it’s all one in the same. The clouds don’t move the way they usually do, and the cars on the roads down below look like they're parked. It’s different but not entirely foreign. Funny, how distance changes things.

Before Yahaba can press him with questions, Kyoutani sighs and explains everything he knows about The Stopping. The patterns he’s been able to figure out, how long it’s been going on, the odd caveat that he has to be at his desk before the time in order for everything to stand still.

“And that’s… why you skipped,” Yahaba processes, slowly, like he’s tasting every word that falls off his tongue, like he can’t quite believe that Kyoutani would have a logical explanation for his actions.

“I don’t know how to stop it,” Kyoutani says, clenching his fists and feeling the way his nails dig into his palms.

“Then how did you get me out of it?” Yahaba asks, but Kyoutani doesn’t think he’s really asking to get an answer. “What was that all about, anyways?” He leans forward, peering at Kyoutani like the answer would be scrawled on his face. Kyoutani moves away. “The kiss thing,” Yahaba adds, probably thinking he wasn’t clear. “Did you really _kiss_ me? I thought you hated me.”

“I thought _you_ hated _me_ ,” Kyoutani grumbles, looking away. “And I tripped.”

“You. Tripped.” He tastes the words again, carefully, and Kyoutani doesn’t want to deal with this. “You woke me up like some kind of fairy tale prince, and you’re just going to write it off as _you tripped_?”

“Why are you so _hung up_ about this?” Kyoutani challenges. “It’s not like the kiss meant anything.”

“You don’t think kisses mean anything.”

“It’s just faces pressed together.”

“So you would kiss me again, right now, without a problem?”

“You’re fucking _twisted_.”

“So you’re a hypocrite.”

“I’m _not_ a hypocrite! I just don’t get why you’re hung up on something that was _an accident_.”

“So let’s not make it an accident. If you’re so sure it means nothing…”

“I’m restarting time,” Kyoutani says, “and when everything comes back to normal, you’re going to act like none of this happened.” He’s opening the door, making to head back down the stairs, when Yahaba grabs his arm.

“This is going to happen again tomorrow,” Yahaba says, his odd playfulness gone and replaced with a seriousness that Kyoutani knows all too well. “Wake me up. If you can.”

“Why?”

“We can think of something. How to stop this. Two heads are better than one, right?”

Kyoutani thinks about it. It doesn’t take long.

“Fine.”

They get back to Kyoutani’s classroom, and he helps Yahaba get his arm just right in Watari’s grip again before Kyoutani sits back down in his seat. The explosion of noise and movement shocks Yahaba enough to drop whatever argument that was supposed to be on his tongue, letting Watari pull him out of the classroom while spewing apologies and telling Kyoutani to come to volleyball practice every once in a while.

The next day, Yahaba doesn’t storm into his classroom. Kyoutani waits patiently for The Stopping to start before getting up and stalking over to Yahaba and Watari’s classroom. They’re at their desks like they always are, except this time Watari’s got his pen balanced in the space between his nose and his puckered lips, and Yahaba is carefully stifling his laughter with his sleeve.

Kyoutani pokes Yahaba’s shoulder. He stays stiff, a perfect statue, his clothes not even moving about him at the touch, just like all the other times he’s tried to touch anyone during The Stopping. Kyoutani bites the inside of his bottom lip, thinking. He pokes again, this time at Yahaba’s cheek. Still like stone. He tries ruffling his hair, but the strands refuse to move. With a sigh and a final resolve, Kyoutani stoops down and kisses Yahaba’s cheek, very near where he poked moments before.

Yahaba’s tittering, muffled laughter explodes the second his lips touch his skin, and Kyoutani jumps away from him on reflex. It takes a second, for Yahaba to blink and realize he’s in The Stopping, for the laughter to die off and for Yahaba’s eyes to meet Kyoutani’s.

“I didn’t think you’d wake me up,” Yahaba notes, strangely.

“You asked me to,” Kyoutani mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“You had to kiss me again.”

“You wouldn’t wake up otherwise.”

“Try kissing Watari.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Kisses don’t mean anything, right?”

“Don’t expect me to do this again, you’re _useless_ ,” Kyoutani says, feeling the way his cheeks burn and ignoring that before shoving Yahaba back into his chair. He doesn’t say anything else as he stomps out of the classroom and heads to his own. He doesn’t even know why he tried.

The next day, he’s late. He thinks about skipping, but that only costs him more time. He doesn’t want to deal with it today, not The Stopping, not Yahaba, not anything. But there he is, standing next to Kyoutani’s classroom door like a guard dog, his eyes narrowing as Kyoutani ignores him.

“You’re late,” Yahaba says, following him into the classroom. Kyoutani sits at his desk dutifully, hating the way Yahaba towers over him.

“ _You’re_ going to be late, you know,” Kyoutani retorts, not sparing him a glance as he takes out a notebook from his backpack.

“It’s gonna…” Yahaba starts, but Kyoutani gives him a murderous glare.

“ _Not a word_.”

“I think I might have.” But the words Stop, just like everything else. Pissed, Kyoutani stands, pushing forward and kissing Yahaba square on the lips. He doesn’t like the fact that he lets the contact linger, feeling Yahaba’s lips move as they try to finish his previous sentence before the realization sets in.

Kyoutani’s not ashamed but he definitely can’t deny the way his cheeks burn as he moves away, the kiss breaking with a minuscule noise of separation that sounds _so loud_ in the stillness of the room. The fact that his classmates are nearby, some looking towards them but not seeing, puts Kyoutani on edge.

“An idea,” Yahaba says, almost wistfully, something Kyoutani refuses to attribute to Yahaba’s voice.

“And it’s _so_ important that you have to hound me about?”

“ _Yes_ !” Yahaba exclaims, grabbing Kyoutani’s shoulders and shaking him. “Because _obviously_ you’re not thinking too hard about it, so _someone_ has to!”

“I’ve _tried_ everything I can, and the only thing that stops it is not being here!”

“I told you to try kissing Watari and you didn’t do it.”

“Because that’s _weird_. I’m not just going to go around kissing people to test a-- a hypothesis!”

“You kissed _me_ , didn’t you? _That’s_ not weird?”

“ _I tripped_ . You’re so _obsessed_ with this, I don’t _understand_ you!”

“That’s the point, Kyoutani!” Yahaba says, shoving at his shoulders again and Kyoutani wants to fight back but can’t really figure out how. He keeps his face neutral as Yahaba stares at him with wide, excited eyes. “I’m not obsessed about kissing you, you’re just refusing to think about the only solution we have here!”

“I’m not kissing everyone in the entire planet just to get time working again!”

“I’m not saying that! Just kiss _me_.”

It’s like the words make Kyoutani Stop, and a painful moment passes where he processes it all. When he looks at Yahaba again, Kyoutani notices the high splotches of red on his cheeks and he can’t really handle that.

“If you like me, you could have just said something.”

“I… That’s not… it,” Yahaba says, struggling to find the right thing to say before shaking his head. “My point is that you kissing me _once_ pulls _me_ out of The Stopping. What if kissing me _twice_ pulls everything else out of it, too?”

“You’re insane,” Kyoutani writes off, moving to plop back down into his seat, but Yahaba grabs hold of his collar and keeps him up with his grip alone.

“ _No_ .” He says it firmly, like a scolding. “I’m not letting you restart time unless you at least _consider_ it.”

“Consider kissing you?”

“It’s the only option we have.”

“More like the only option you _want_ ,” Kyoutani mutters, and Yahaba growls in response.

“You’re making this so _difficult_! I thought you wanted this to stop!”

“The problem is that everything _else_ is Stopping!” Kyoutani argues, trying to pry his shirt out of Yahaba’s grip, but the other is stronger than he looks. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what the world _wants_ from me! Everything is so still and silent and there’s nothing I can do except let it happen and scare the crap out of me or ignore it entirely! And then I pull you into all this on _accident_ , and then you just magically think that you have the answer? _It’s not that simple_!”

“Kyoutani…” Yahaba’s voice brings him back. He blinks, and he doesn’t remember clutching at Yahaba’s wrists, but the place where their skin touches feels a bit too heated. “Every moment ends… and no one ever said you have to figure this out alone.”

Kyoutani hears the tentative edge to Yahaba’s voice, feels the way Yahaba’s fingers loosen their grip, sees the way Yahaba’s gaze softens, warms, and all at once Kyoutani _knows_ why he was mesmerized with him all those Stoppings ago. The realization bubbles, sending his stomach somersaulting and his heart swooping, and all at once he’s leaning forward and Yahaba’s pulling and their lips meet almost painfully, their noses bumping in a way that’s supposed to make them laugh but only makes Kyoutani more desperate to make it _right_. He tilts his head, presses closer until they’re connected like puzzle pieces, lets his lips part slightly, lets Yahaba nip at his bottom lip as he pulls at the hair on the nape of his neck in a way that sends a shiver sparking down his spine--

“--tani? _Kyoutani_.”

Yahaba gasps, pushing away from him, leaving Kyoutani dazed and confused.

“ _And_ Yahaba. Please keep your… romantic endeavors _outside_ the classroom.” That’s Kyoutani’s teacher’s voice. It takes a second for it all to sink in, the judgmental scowl from his teacher, the shocked wide-eyed stares from his classmates, the faint hum of the air conditioning, the clouds shifting ever-so-slightly outside.

Kyoutani’s face _burns_.

“S-So sorry to bother you,” Yahaba answers, turning towards the front of the classroom and bowing low at the waist. He rushes out of the classroom almost without a backwards glance towards Kyoutani. He’s darting out of the door when their gazes meet. Yahaba almost looks smug.

Kyoutani, with his heart stuttering in his chest, mutters a rough apology to his class as he sags into his chair.

So yes, the curious thing about the world is that, if you let it, it’ll stand still. It’ll let you explore, it’ll let you dwell on things you never had to before, but most importantly, it’ll lead you to find something to set it all in motion again. Sometimes, the ticking of a working clock is all you need.

**Author's Note:**

> *jazz hands* gotta love the deeply metaphorical bullshit amiright guys?  
> thank you so much for reading!! please comment or stop by my tumblr and tell me what you think!!
> 
> and as yahaba said, no one has to go through anything alone! please come talk to me or someone you trust if you're going through something tough!  
> love you!!  
> -HB


End file.
